


The Hunt

by zury (azurezury)



Series: The Hunt [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, incubus!finnick, lycan!johanna, vampire!Peeta, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:11:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurezury/pseuds/zury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where humans aren't on top of the food chain, the Twelve Districts give two tributes every five years to the creatures of the Capitol. There the tributes are hunted and captured by those who wish to possess them. Instead of death, slavery awaits them. When Primrose is called as a tribute, Katniss volunteers. Her and Gale are swept off to the Capitol, where things that go bump in the night come alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> i really wanted to a fantasy!au with The Hunger Games and it kept driving me crazy until i did it. lots of canon things sprinkled into this fic. mainly Katniss POV, but interchanging 3rd person at times.

Reaping Day.

I wipe my sweaty palms on the faded blue dress, barely managing a smile as Prim tries (and fails) to keep her blouse tucked in. “Come here little duck,” I murmur, pushing the wayward fabric back into her skirt. “Much better.” I smooth back a stray curl and I see the twitch of her eye. I manage to pull her face into my chest just in time, the tears and sobs wracking her tiny body. I look at my mother and her gaze averts as she tries to smooth the pleats in her own dress. 

"It’s okay Prim. You won’t get picked." I promise her. After all, the odds are in her favor. Besides, I think, there is no way I would send her off to the clutches of those…beasts.

I’d rather fight my fellow humans to the death than run mindlessly around, waiting to be caught. No if. Just when. After all, what’s the fun in a hunt if you don’t get to bring home a prize. I think of myself and Gale in the woods, bringing down fowl and other woodland creatures. I don’t dare compare us to the creatures in the Capitol. We hunt for survival.

They hunt for entertainment.

———————-

We gather in neat rows and I keep my eyes on Prim. She’s holding together, which is more than I can say for myself. On the outside I’m indifferent as always. But on the inside, I’m trembling. What if I get called? My eyes glance over to Gale, his gaze impassive. What if Gale gets called?

Once again my eyes settle on the little duck tail of Prim. 

What if she gets called?

Effie Trinket, our district escort, tutters and gathers the attention of everyone. Her bright pink hair might be out of place if they didn’t match the shimmer of gossamer wings fluttering excitedly behind her. She’s dressed in some ridiculous getup in what I can only assume is the latest Capitol fashion. I roll my eyes and barely disguise my snort when I imagine myself or Gale in some stupid outfit with pastel hair and rib crushing fabrics. 

Effie shows a video, as per usual, narrating the history of The Hunt. To remind us humans that we are no longer on top of the food chain and we would do well to remember our place in order to preserve peace and protection granted by our benevolent overlords. The howl of a lycan echoes over the speaker, sending a chill down my spine. 

The Hunt, as I’ve learned in school, is more of a symbol of days gone by. In which the creatures of the night stalked the lands, bringing down human prey for food and pleasure. Before my time, when The Hunt was first created, the original players were eaten, consumed on camera for all seeing eyes. But instead the players are simply captured and made part of the captor’s household. 

As Gale once put it, we’re all mice running around in a huge maze waiting to be plucked out. 

There’s a pageantry associated with The Hunt, captors competing to get their choice of victim. Betting is commonplace. Who will catch who, how long each tribute will run. Then there’s the aftermath. The collaring and branding. Permanently sealing the fate of each tribute. Never to see their homes or families again. 

Better off dead, I always say. 

My eyes and thoughts focus as Effie glides across the stage, picking from the girl’s bowl first. She makes a big show of it, swirling the little tags of paper around before finally choosing. She hovers over the microphone, unwrapping the paper with a thousand watt smile. 

"Primrose Everdeen!"

—————-

The first thought that goes through my head is “it’s not me”. The second is “not Primrose”. My feet are moving and my mouth opening before my brain realizes what is happening. “I volunteer!” I hear someone that sounds vaguely like my own screaming. “I volunteer! I volunteer!”

I slam back into the present as two Peacekeepers haul me up by my arms and escort me to the stage. Someone pulls Primrose back and I can hear her calling my name. All I can think is that Primrose is safe now. Effie asks me to introduce myself. 

"Katniss Everdeen." I whisper. 

"Isn’t this exciting?" Effie gives a squeal of delighted laughter. As if this was some sort of production put on solely for her, and the Capitol’s, entertainment. She buzzes over to the boy’s bowl, asking for volunteers before she dips her hand down. No one raises a hand. A little put off by no more drama, she picks a slip and goes back to the microphone. 

"Gale Hawthorne!"


	2. II

When Primrose comes to me during the short time allotted to say goodbye to our families, we cling to each other. “You’re safe,” I whisper, barely heard above her sobs. “You’re safe and that’s all that matter.” I pull her back, wiping away tears on ruddy cheeks. “You’re safe and you’ll be well taken care of.” The only good thing that came from being Reaped was that your families would be taken care of, at least for a year. Those that hunted in the games were often well to do and could afford to support their new slave’s family. A year was mandatory, but any more than that was up to the master or mistress.

"I’d rather starve than lose you!" Prim cries, her voice laced with anger with undertones of despair.

"And I’d rather subject myself to a thousand years of torture than to let you taken by those monsters!" I press my lips into her hair, inhaling her sweet scent of home. "You’ve got to be brave for me, little duck. And take care of our mother." Our mother, weakened by years of hard labor, could hardly provide for either of us. Prim nods and gives me one last hug before she goes to our mother, standing against the wall. Our eyes meet. We say nothing to each other and she leaves. I sit there, still wiping my sweaty palms on my ruined blue dress. I think of Gale next door, saying his goodbyes to his large family. Pain grips my heart. I had at least hoped that Gale wouldn’t be reaped. That he would be able to watch after my sister. Now who would?

A familiar head pokes inside my door. Madge, the mayor’s daughter, still looking pretty in her pink dress. “I’m sorry Katniss.” She murmurs. I give a shrug.

"I’d die for Prim." I reply. Madge fidgets for a second before she engulfs me in a tight hug. I’ve never been one for friends, but Madge is someone I more than tolerate. I might even actually like her.

"I want you to have this. As a token. And reminder of home." She presses something heavy in my hands. I look down. A golden pin with a bird in the middle that seems to be taking off in flight. "It’s a Mockingjay." I thought of the Mockingjays that littered the forest. How, when Gale was too sick or busy to come with me on hunts, they’d keep me company with their songs. I allow myself for the first time to give a sniff and then let the tears flow. Madge holds me for a few seconds longer until the Peacekeepers come.

"It’s time for you to go." One of them mutters and Madge draws back.

"Be careful Katniss." Madge whispers. "Don’t let the bad ones find you."

I want to respond “but they’re all bad” but she’s gone and I’m being loaded up on the train.

———————

I snuggle into my father’s hunting jacket as Gale and I sit side by side, quiet and letting Effie’s chatting fill the void. What can we talk about? Sorry that you got reaped. Hope you won’t end up in the claws of a bloodthirsty vampire or a sadistic demon.

Hardly dinner time conversation.

Instead we look at the decadent foods on our plate. While we’ve never gone without a meal in our district, we certainly don’t have such succulent flavors. Just enough to keep us from being too skinny, I overheard one day as the people who brought rations made idle conversation with the workmen. Evidently Capitol creatures don’t like the skin and bones type.

Our hands connect over the velvet cushion. Effie’s lulled into silence when there’s a crashing of sorts and she throws her hand up, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I swear on the Capitol - Haymitch!” The train door opens and a blonde stumbles through. He might be handsome enough, I think, if it weren’t for the scowl on his face. Or the two pale horns curling on his head. They’re cracked and chipped, as if he’s rammed his head too many times into the wall. And if judging by the stench of alcohol that follows him, I wonder if this is indeed the case.

"Katniss, Gale, meet Haymitch. Haymitch, these are the newest tributes, Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne. Katniss here volun-"

"Volunteered for her sister, yeah yeah yeah. Absolutely heart wrenching." Haymitch plops onto the nearest seat, making Effie turn a shade of green. I chuckle under my breath. A pretty pastel green might go nice with that pink wig. "As if those big wigs in the Capitol give a shit." I stare in somewhat disbelief. I was always under the impression that all the creatures were aligned with each other. After all, you didn’t see many outside the Capitol or Districts One and Two. Haymitch looks at us, eyes traveling down to our interlocked fingers. He gives a snort. "If you two have a thing going on, I expect you to get it out of your system before we get to the Capitol. One Tribute per Victor. You know the rules." He pulls out a flask from his jacket and takes a swig.

"So what exactly are you here for?" Gale asks, irritation in his voice.

"I’m your mentor, so to speak."

"Why in the hell do we need a mentor?" I scowl. "Aren’t we just going to be dropped in an arena and run around until we get caught."

"Essentially yes." Haymitch doesn’t sugarcoat. "However, the way you play may, just may, influence who picks you up. Not all those playing are total dicks. Most of them are. But if you’re lucky to land with a decent enough one, you win, your family wins. Everyone wins. Happily ever after and all that." He waves his hands around. Gale and I roll our eyes.

There’s no such thing as a good monster.

"Now, first things first." Haymitch swipes a cheesy bun. They look fairly good and my stomach grumbles for the first time today. I take another one, nibbling on it and refusing to feel like I’m in total heaven as the goo melts on my tongue. "You are a little dirty, but a little cleaning up and you two will look as good as the Careers."

"Careers?" Gale is now chewing on a piece of lamb.

"Yeah. Careers." Haymitch makes a disgusted face. "They usually train to become tributes. They score high in charisma and beauty. Not much on the personality, but when a creature is looking for an easy fuck-"

"Language Haymitch!" Effie trills.

"Easy lay or arm candy, they’re the ones to pick. Most Careers don’t play the game long and usually their mentors have deals worked out with the creatures that want them the most."

"I thought that was illegal. Marking." I reach for another cheese bun.

"It is. But deals are made. Money changes hands. I’ll try to help you out as much as I can. Score you someone good. Last time my tributes decided they wanted to ‘do their own thing’, well…let’s just say, I’ve never felt so bad for a human being in all my life." Haymitch’s eyes darken and he takes another drink.

I squeeze Gale’s hand and he squeezes back.

What have we just gotten ourselves into?

——————

"Peeta."

"Peeta."

"Peetaaaaaa….."

Peeta sighs, letting the brush drop and he turns on his stool, crossing his arms lightly. Johanna gives an innocent smile, baring the long canines on her upper lip. “What is it Johanna?”

"Aren’t you excited?" Peeta is sure that if Johanna was in her furry form, her tail would be wagging excitedly. "I know I sure am." She licks her lips. "That last one I got five years back was such a dud. Couldn’t even handle the first go around. I’ll have to pick someone sturdier this time. Maybe one of those Careers."

Peeta snorts. “As if I would want one of them. Nothing but narcissists. I think there are enough of those here in the Capitol, don’t you think?” Peeta turns back to his canvas.

"Finnick would be insulted if he heard you talking like that."

"I think of it more as a compliment." Peeta groans to himself as Finnick’s voice drifts through. Deciding to give up on his portrait of a sunset (memories aren’t forever), he turns back around. Finnick has joined Johanna on the bed, the both of them looking the picture of bored rich kids. Or creatures. Whatever.

"Geez Finnick, give me some space." Johanna pushes the blond roughly in an attempt to claim more territory that is Peeta’s bed. They engage in a short lived tussle that has Johanna proudly claiming the bed and Finnick on the floor. He sits up, trying to bring some order to his unruly hair.

"I think the crop looks good this year. I was watching the reaping ceremonies." Finnick picks up the remote, sticking his tongue out at Johanna who eyes the device greedily. Peeta wonders if it’s just a wolf thing. Wanting to claim everything in sight. At least she wasn’t peeing on his walls.

Yet.

The ceremonies are on replay. Finnick and Johanna trade comments about the tributes, pausing the feed to point out what they like and don’t like about the tributes. Finnick pauses on District Four, green eyes darkening as he lays eyes on a petite redhead, ignoring the way she trembled on the camera. “Easy there stud,” Johanna punches him in the shoulder. “You better control yourself or those pheromones will have poor Peeta running around naked.” Peeta blushes and snatches the remote from Finnick, speeding through District Four.

Finnick pouts lightly. “Oh well. I’ll see her later.” he smirks. “She won’t be able to resist me.”

"No one can resist you when just one whiff has them panting like bitch in heat." Johanna flicks the back of his head repeatedly. District Twelve comes up and the commentator, Caesar Flickerman becomes excited. "Oh," Johanna pauses in her torment on Finnick. "This is the one with all the drama."

Peeta’s attention comes back to the television, brush in hand and orange paint dripping on the expensive carpet. He watches as they call up a wisp of a blond thing. They really shouldn’t be reaping anything under sixteen, but sometimes it happens. And then all of the sudden, there’s someone screaming. A dark haired, olive skinned girl is scrambling forward, volunteering herself. She’s shakily escorted up to the stage.

"Katniss Everdeen!"

In that moment, Peeta knows. She’s the one he wants.

"Oh wow, look at that hunk of flesh." Johanna’s eyes zero in on the male tribute. Peeta has no choice but to look at him, silently wishing for the camera to pan back onto Katniss. "I wouldn’t mind tying him up and licking him all over."

"Johanna, please, spare me the details of your love life." Finnick dramatically drapes an arm over his eyes. Johanna hits him upside the head.

"Please Finnick. As if we all don’t know you have whips and chains down in that dungeon of yours."

Their banter becomes buzzing background noise as the camera goes back to Katniss, lingering there before they cut to commercial.

 _Katniss Everdeen_ Peeta thinks _you are mine._

————————-

I try hard not to be in awe of the city, but I can’t help it. All the buildings sparkle and the air feels so…clean. Not weighted down by the soot of coal and weariness.

I stay close to Gale as Effie ushers us along, Haymitch swaying after us. For once, I’m sort of glad for his demonic presence. It keeps the looks of the other creatures at bay. Some of the more vicious looking ones - lycans, demons, creatures that I cannot even fathom - leer at us, licking their teeth. Hunting of humans outside of The Hunt is illegal. Those that require human subsistence, such as blood, take from donors and sometimes other creatures. A small price for Tributes to pay. The suffering of two dozen for the freedom of thousands.

We’re taken into what Effie describes as the Court. It’s a large courtyard with the President’s mansion at the center. Our new owners don’t live here but merely reside here during The Hunt. In the end, we’ll be carted off to either another house in the Capitol, District One, or District Two. Where the tributes go is to the north of the mansion, those that are hunting will reside in the tower to the south. Flanking east and west are the buildings where the parties are held, deals are made, and prizes claimed. I try not to let my eyes linger on the hunters’ tower too long.

Our suite is beautiful with every luxury imaginable. Gale and I indulge in trying out each little button and knob, delighting in the instant flicker of light, spray of water, and appearance of food. Haymitch shakes his head but says nothing, taking a spot on a loveseat with wine bottle in hand. “Get used to luxury kiddos. Only the wealthy get to play in these games.”

"Haymitch," I say, turning away from the window that gazes out to the city below. "Has there ever been a hunt in which one of the tributes didn’t become a…"

"Slave." Gale supplies. He’s a little more subdued than I am after catching sight of a demon flying past.

Haymitch shrugs. “Yeah. They usually get sent to the market or to the gallows.” Any hope of escape flutters out of my chest and I nod. Suddenly the excitement has faded and I mutter something about going to shower.

I’m stripping down to a towel when my door opens and Gale steps in. “I’m not going to let you get taken by someone cruel.” He promises, enveloping me in his arms. I press my nose into his neck, inhaling his scent. It keeps me calm and I stifle the tears. He threads his fingers through my hair, stubble catching my hair.

"Me either." I mutter. I couldn’t live with myself if he became some plaything for a monster. As much as I hated it, I had to trust that Haymitch was right. That not all the monsters were cruel.

———————————-

Johanna, Peeta, and Finnick are the only three that seem to go against the trend of artificial colors and blindingly bright clothes. Johanna prefers a deep burgundy dress that hugs every curve and dips low in the back, showing off the single tattoo of a pawprint with claws digging into flesh. Finnick believes himself to look best in an open throat white shirt and black slacks, looking every bit the seductive lover that he is. His horns, a platinum blonde, are groomed and shined so that they reflect like a mirror as they curl into his skull. Light colored wings rest easy on his shoulders, the little claws at the tip retracted so they don’t drag along the carpet.

Peeta figures that simple is best. He chooses a button down that’s pale blue and a bit more conservative than Finnick and charcoal grey pants. He can’t help but stuff his hands in and out of his pockets to the point where Johanna grabs his wrists and threatens to break every finger if he doesn’t stop.

He’s a little bit better when they get to the opening night party, able to get lost in the crowd. He laughs with a pack of wolves and discusses latest breakthroughs in curing blood borne diseases with a couple of other vampires. He avoids Clove and Cato, preferring to steer clear of any and all reptiles. He’s not much of a snake fan.

He’s grouped back up with Finnick and Johanna when Caesar Flickerman, a rather eccentric fae with glimmering blue wings, comes out to introduce the Tributes. Peeta finds himself clutching the glass of blood wine anxiously, ready for Katniss to make her appearance.

Districts One and Two’s tributes are hardly wearing a stitch of clothing, covering up just for decency. Murmurs of approval go through the crowd as Caesar rattles off the traits and qualities of the Careers. How the females are trained in all areas of pleasure and the males built for withstanding the strongest of bites.

District Three passes in a blur. He only pays attention during District Four because Finnick is looking like he might bash a few heads in when the female tribute, Annie, appears. She’s swathed in a soft turquoise gown, the shimmering bottom giving her the effect of being a mermaid. She’s a shy thing, he notes, from the way her head subtly dips and her eyes drift to the side. She does a small spin for Caesar and a woof whistle has Finnick opening his wings in an attempt to display dominance. “Calm down,” Johanna hits him in the ribs, effectively shutting him down as he grunts in pain. “Fight in the arena, not here.” She hisses.

Districts Five through Eleven filter through quickly enough, though Peeta feels a hint of pity for the Eleven female tribute. A small thing. She looked more like a child. Hopefully one of the gentler creatures would scoop her up. “And now, from District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne!”

———————

I feel like a side of beef on display as the curtains part, displaying Gale and I to the hungry gazes below. We’re behind a protective glass screen. Alcohol and greediness often have disastrous results, Haymitch told us. I’m dressed up in a gold gown with off the shoulder straps, the corset threatening to break my ribs as it pushes up my breasts. Tulle falls around my hips, swishing with every movement, up barely high enough to get a peek at the unbearable heels Effie forced me into. Gale looks like he’s choking despite his shirt open, revealing years of labor since he was a preteen.

"I feel so naked." I whisper to him and he nods stiffly, trying to look anywhere but at the hungry gaze. I allow myself to look at the other glass cases at the other tributes. The Careers seem to have no trouble flaunting but the rest look as miserable as we do. Movement catches my eye and two creatures are standing at our window, taking closer looks. We can’t hear what they’re saying and frankly, I don’t want to know. One is a dark haired female, giving a lethal looking grin. Her eyes are pinned to Gale and I resist the urge to put my body in front of his. I look at the male and I meet an intense icy blue. My heart stops and then begins to jackhammer in my chest to the point where I think I might explode. He’s ghostly pale and I wonder what he could be. Then he opens his mouth and two sharp fangs catch my attention.

Vampire.

Later I will blame the heat of the box and the overwhelming nerves. But it’s really the thought of those fangs biting into my skin is what sends the blood rushing from my head to low in my belly and I feel my knees crumple.

——————

The curtain instantly swishes close as the girl faints and Peeta reaches a hand out, as if he thinks he could catch her. Instead he winds up grabbing the glass. At least the male beside her seemed to react quick enough to catch her. Others are looking now, curious of the ongoings. Johanna shoos them away. “Nothing to see here morons.” She snaps, hackles rising.

The other curtains close and Johanna grabs Peeta’s arm, leading him into the sitting room where the pictures are displayed on screen and the mentors lurk around, ready to make deals.

"Geez Peeta. I didn’t think you had it in you to make a girl faint like that." Peeta gives a sour look.

"I didn’t mean to." Peeta looks rather guilty and Johanna rolls her eyes.

"I was just joking. Get that stick out of your ass." Johanna knocks back a glass of whiskey before snatching another off a tray. Finnick is in a heated discussion with an elderly lady standing underneath the District Four crest. Must be trying to haggle a deal, Peeta thought. Johanna and him drift around, ultimately landing at the District Twelve crest. He bares his fangs as he passes Cato, who flicks his tongue out. It makes his skin scrawl thinking about Cato standing there at the District Twelve table. At least the surly looking demon seemed uninterested in dealing with Cato.

Haymitch eyes the two approaching, taking another swig of his flask. So far there hasn’t been much to pick from and he’s beginning to wonder if those two kids next door have anything worth looking forward to. He gazes first at the lycan, who boredly runs sharp nails along the wooden table, making it peel. The vampire next to her seems nervous, taking small sips from his glass. So far so good.

"Haymitch Abernathy, representing District Twelve." He puts out his hand. The vampire is first to respond, his fingers like ice but a firm grip. The lycan just quirks a brow. Not wasting anymore time, Haymitch sits back down. "What’s the offer."

"You know, I could rip your throat out in a second if I really wanted." The lycan purrs. Haymitch grins and stretches his neck.

"Go ahead sweetheart." The lycan stares and then laughs.

"The girl." The vampire picks up a picture of Katniss, thumb rubbing over her face. "How much."

"Hmmm…" Haymitch taps his chin. "She’s a wily one. She’s gonna run hard and she’s going to run fast." He looks at the picture of Gale. "And he’s pretty tight with her. So he’s going to hit hard and fast." The hunters weren’t in danger of being killed, but there were known instances in which the prey became the predator. Johanna licks her lips.

"I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve been looking for a new boy toy. He seems sturdy enough."

"Oh if you’re looking for a little bit of fun, these two are definitely it. I’m sure they’ll give us some entertainment this year."

"Your price?" Peeta directs the conversation back to the original point.

"Well, I’ll need a cut as well. But I think there is some sort of agreement we can come to." Haymitch gestures to the seats before him. "Let’s get started, shall we?"


	3. III

"Here are some potential matches."

Haymitch tosses the glossy papers in front of Gale and I as he drops into a seat across from us, wine bottle never spilling a drop in his hands. I pick up one of the glossy photos. The blond haired, blue eyed vampire from last night. My face burns as I remember my embarrassing falling out and I slink further into my seat, hiding my reddening cheeks with the photo. _He's handsome enough_ , the thought drifts lazily through my head. This photograph is simple enough with him staring at the camera, a slight smile on his face. No sharp tipped teeth in sight. If I didn't know any better, I would think him just a normal guy who could probably use a blood transfusion to give him a bit of color. 

"Peeta Mellark," Haymitch slides a few more papers towards me. A pedigree of some sort with a family tree tracing back to old world money. I wonder if he was alive before the Dark Days. A more sinister thought enters my mind. What if he was one of those who ruthlessly hunted before and during those Dark Days. I toss the picture back on the table as if it's burned me. Haymitch is prattling on but all I can think about is this vampire hovering over me, bloodlust in his eyes before he rips my throat out. Gale's hand rests on the back of my neck and his fingers rub into the tense muscles, hoping to relax me. "- decent enough." Haymitch says. I blink. 

"Excuse me?"

Haymitch gives an exasperated sigh, muttering something about not being drunk enough to handle this. "I said," he grunts. "Is that he's decent enough. He's the president of a corporation that supplies all bread and bread products." he gestures to the finely made pastries on the table. "Owns almost all the granaries in District Nine and Eleven." Fabulous. A vampire that likes to bake. A hysterical laugh escapes my lips as I imagine myself chopped into fine pieces for a meat pie and a serving of blood pudding for dessert. Haymitch and Gale stare at me and I avert my eyes to the window to watch the rain hit the window. "Anyways," Haymitch continues. "He was rather intent on striking a deal for you Katniss. Willing to pay a pretty penny."

"What did you say?" I look back to Haymitch. 

The demon shrugs. "That I would think about it. Can't take the first offer that comes along, you know." He smirks and I shudder at the razor sharp teeth inside his mouth. Thankfully Gale uses that moment to pick up the photo of a dark haired female. 

"Johanna Mason." Haymitch stuffs a bun into his mouth, chewing loudly before gulping it down. "Best tracker in Panem. She runs a pack around the edge of Peeta Mellark's territory. They're in a partnership of sorts. She provides protection, he provides shelter, clothing, and food."

"Pack?" Gale tilts the picture back and forth. 

"Yeah. Full blood lycan." At Gale's blank expression, Haymitch throws up his hands. "Do they teach you kids nothing in school?"

"Sorry. Learning about all the creatures that can kill us isn't exactly a stimulating topic." Gale dryly retorts. Haymitch flips him off with a finger. 

"Fully blooded lycan means that she can shift whenever she damn well pleases. And she has the ability to turn your pathetic human bodies into lycans as well. Get bit by anything less than a pure blood and the worse thing that'll happen is the limb will fall off." Haymitch seems pleased at the color draining from Gale's face. This time it's my turn to comfort him with a squeeze on the knee. "I wouldn't worry too much though. You have to have a permit to change a person and even then it can take months or years to get it approved." Haymitch takes a swig of his drink. 

Slowly, I say, "So this is essentially the best way for us to stay together." After all, surely there was some reason why Haymitch was pointing us more towards Peeta and Johanna rather than the others laid out on the table. I reach for the picture of another blond male. He's got a wicked smirk on his face and his eyes have slitted pupils and unnaturally bright green irises. 

Haymitch doesn't deny or confirm my claim. "Cato. Serpent shifter. He's a top lackey in the government. You don't want to fall into his hands. Trust me." I shudder at the thought of snakes. While I don't have many animal fears, the thought of snakes makes me want to retch. Their slither and slick scales. I always shoot them immediately and leave. Snakeskin might be popular, but not enough for me to touch it other than retrieving my arrows. "His sister, Clove, was expressing a lot of interest in you Gale." Haymitch nudges the picture towards Gale. Gale refuses to even touch it. "I tried to shut down offers, but that doesn't mean jack shit-"

"LANGUAGE HAYMITCH!" Effie yells from the living area and Haymitch sticks out his tongue in her direction but promptly puts it back in when he hears her heels clicking ominously. 

"It doesn't mean anything in the arena. If they want you bad enough, they'll hunt you down regardless."

\---------------

On days like these, when Peeta's mind is too active for him to sleep, he finds himself in the kitchen, comforted by the smell of freshly rising bread. The predictable movements of his hands kneading and shaping the bread puts him at ease. He finds himself stretching out the dough into three segments and he begins to braid them, his find drifting to the glossy profile of Katniss Everdeen. He thinks of how at first she seems standoffish. But there must be some sweetness if she willingly took her sister's place. The thought makes him smile and he continues to weave. 

When Johanna and Finnick join him in his suite, he puts a silver covered dish in front of them. "I made something new." Both Finnick and Johanna's eyes light up in excitement. There's a certain perk to being buds with the best immortal baker in Panem. Peeta pulls the cover off and they stare down at the newest creation. The bread is soft and flaky, braided expertly. There's a coating of sea salt on top and they glance up at Peeta. Finnick manages a smile. 

"Looks great Peeta!"

Johanna, however, is less than enthusiastic now. "I was hoping for something else than salty bread, unless this is your new ration creation for those poor bastards in the other districts." 

Peeta rolls his eyes and breaks apart one of the braids. The scent of chocolate fills the air and suddenly Johanna's outlook on life is better. The chocolate is still gooey in the middle, dripping out as Peeta breaks off two pieces and hands it to Finnick and Johanna. 

"Oh my goddddd I feel like I'm having an orgasm in my mouth!" Johanna moans. 

"This is almost better than sex." Finnick purrs. "If I could, I would survive off this for the rest of my life." He's licking his fingers but Johanna is grabbing his hand to clean off the excess chocolate. Peeta pushes the plate towards them. The food would be lost on his taste buds anyways. Everything other than blood tastes like ash. "So, what are you going to call it?" Finnick manages after gulping down another piece of bread. He's hoarded the plate with one hand on Johanna's neck to keep her at bay. She's growling and flexing her claws, using her body weight to push against him. Peeta shrugs. 

"I'm not sure yet. I've thought of a couple of things." But they were all really cheesy and he didn't feel confident enough to share them with his friends. "But at least I know it's good." 

"This is better than good!" Johanna finally manages to grab the plate and is woofing them down with a ferocity that Peeta has only seen during her hunts. "Promise me you'll make more!" Johanna's words are a demand, not a request. Peeta chuckles lightly. 

"Anything for you guys."

\---------

"I don't see why having some sort of talent is needed." I fuss as I pick at a thread on my pants. We're sitting in a circular room with the other tributes. Instead of being dressed up fancy, we're allowed to wear something a little more toned down. To help keep the attention on our "unique" talents. Though judging from the way District One and Two's tributes are dressed, their only talent involves the ones needed in the bedroom. I curl into Gale's shoulder, the scent of my father's jacket helping lower my heart rate. 

"Haymitch says that having a talent, or some useful trait, can increase our chances of getting good..." he struggles to figure out a word. 

"Masters." I mutter. 

"Yeah." he gives a strained chuckle. "Though I don't see who would be interested in watching me set up a bunch of snares."

"That wolf lady might." I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow. I expect a gag or snide response, but instead Gale just turns his head and I can see the reddening on his ears. My mouth opens, more out of shock, but his name is being called. He gets up and gives me a hint of a smile. 

"Good luck, Catnip." 

I'm left with the dwindling amount of tributes. They've been calling us in random. Another way to keep us stirred up and anxious about the whole procedure. The smaller girl, Rue, is sitting with the female from District Four. Annie Cresta, I believe. Not wanting to be alone, I get up and make my way over to them. Annie gives me a tentative smile but honestly the girl looks like she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Rue's welcome is a little more relaxed. "Katniss, right?" Rue scoots over and I sit on the sofa, pulling my knees to my chest. 

"Yeah. Rue and Annie," They both nod. I let out a breath. 

"Are you nervous?" Rue asks after a moment. I laugh. 

"That's one way of saying it." I peer at Rue. "Aren't you?"

"A little, yeah." she fingers a curl. "But...I guess if it means my family gets taken care of, then it's worth it. I've only had a couple of offers. I'm not much competition with the Careers dominating the spotlight." 

"I don't see who would want a Career. But I guess some of those Hunters are into the shallow, self obsessed types."

"Just a way to show off their wealth." Annie offers silently, fingers twisting a length of rope in her hands. 

"So what sort of talents are you two planning on showing?" I ask, hoping to get some ideas.

"Knots." Annie murmurs. I look at the length of rope in her hands. I guess flexible fingers count as a talent.

"I'll preform an aerial silk routine." Rue grins. "It's the only decent thing besides picking fruit from the orchards that I can do. What about you Katniss?" 

"Well, I guess I could show them how to skin a squirrel." Annie lifts a brow, a hint of a smile on her otherwise strained face. Rue giggles behind her hands. 

"That's definitely a talent." 

Before our conversation can go any further, my name is called. I get up, offering them a short wave and wish of luck and head down the corridor, the echo of my heartbeat pulsing through my ears. 

\-------

Peeta almost feels a hint of pity for the poor pole in the middle of the room as Glimmer trots off. No amount of sanitation can save the wretched thing. It disappears from sight as the next tribute is presented. 

Katniss Everdeen. 

Suddenly he's perched on the edge of his seat, glass in hand forgotten. Johanna and Finnick give him teasing eyes and he feels Cato boring into the back of his head. No special props pop up and she takes a stand in the center of the room, staring at them. Her sweet scent washes over him. She smells like pine needles and fresh snow. He can tell she's nervous. Not by the sweat on her brow or her twisting hands. But by the fluttering beat of her heart. He can almost taste her blood rushing across his tongue and he feels his fangs enlongating. Thoroughly embarrassed by himself, he takes a sip of his blood wine. She stands there for a moment longer and they begin to wonder if she's just going to stare at them. Or pass out again. 

Her mouth opens and she clears her throat before she begins to sing. 

_I remember tears streaming down your face_

_When I said, "I'll never let you go"_

_When all those shadows almost killed your light_

_I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone"_

_But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight_

Her eyes are closed, as if she's imagining herself singing to someone else. Peeta believes that she's somewhere else, probably with her sister. Huddled next to a fire as a storm rages on outside. He closes his eyes too, absorbing the beauty of her voice and words. 

_Just close your eyes  
_

_The sun is going down  
_

_You'll be alright  
_

_No one can hurt you now  
_

_Come morning light  
_

_You and I'll be safe and sound_

Her voice trembles with emotion but she continues on strong. Peeta decides that he could listen to her sing forever. His little songbird. 

_Don't you dare look out your window, darling,  
_

_Everything's on fire  
_

_The war outside our door keeps raging on  
_

_Hold on to this lullaby  
_

_Even when music's gone  
_

_Gone_

She repeats a stanza, her voice drifting off as she finishes the song. She gives a curt curtsey and dismisses herself, turning sharply to walk away. But she doesn't turn quick enough and Peeta catches sight of a single tear sliding down her cheek. He resists the urge to leap from his seat and gather her into his arms.

Gather her and keep her safe and sound. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** lyrics from "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out Trapped (http://archiveofourown.org/works/2095302) - gale/johanna companion piece to chapter 3!

I can't sleep. 

I toss and turn in the silk sheets, the glowing streets below more irritating than soothing. After several minutes of squeezing my eyes shut and trying to count sheep, I simply give up. Pulling on my robe, I slip into the hallway. The light in Gale's room is on. He must be having trouble sleeping too. I knock on his door, leaning against the cool wood. After a second, he opens it up. There are dark circles under his eyes and his hair looks like he's been sleeping on top of his head. "I can't sleep." I mutter, resisting the urge to smooth his hair down. 

"Me either." He mumbles, stepping aside so I can come in. His sheets are all over the place and pillows are sagging against the wall where he's thrown them. He orders us two cups of hot chocolate as I settle on the window seat. There's a party going down in the streets. I take the offered cup but I don't drink. 

"I wish I could get my bow and arrow and go shoot something." I pause as someone shoots up fireworks in the air. "Maybe that's why I can't sleep. We've been stuck up in this damn tower for what feels like an eternity. What I wouldn't give to have the earth beneath my feet and the mountain air in my lungs." 

"I could go for a bowl of Greasy Sae's wild dog stew." Gale sighs wistfully. "Followed by a day of trading and ending the night sitting around the fire singing." We both sit there stewing in memories, our cups growing cold. After a second, I speak up. 

"Let's get out of here." Gale looks at me with wide eyes. 

"Where are we going to go? There aren't any woods around here for miles."

"Well, there may not be any woods, but surely there's something worth getting into down there." 

"You're wanting to go into the Capitol at night, where all those demonic things are, the same demonic things that going to be hunting us in less than twenty four hours, and find some sort of trouble?" I give a shrug. 

"Might as well go out with a bang, don't you think?"

Ten minutes later, we're both dressed in dark clothes, our faces covered as we slip out the door. 

\---------------

Watching Finnick and Johanna get drunk is possibly the most entertaining thing Peeta can think of. Johanna is currently riding on top of Finnick's shoulders, a bottle in one hand and fist in the other. They're playing a game of chicken with a couple of other demons and judging from the way Johanna's eyes are glittering gold as she verges on the tip of shifting and Finnick's expanded wings, those two demons don't stand a chance. Peeta is content to watch from his perch on the edge of some stone steps. He's not drunk but definitely tipsy and he knows they'll all be sporting hangovers tomorrow. Which sort of sucks, because tomorrow is supposed to be a group dinner with all the tributes, where the hunters can get an up close and personal look at their potential prizes. 

His thoughts drift to Katniss and a stupid smile comes to his face. He's been replaying her voice in his head all night. He can't wait to take her home to District Two and have her sing for him at night. She'd be the life of his parties with that golden voice of hers. Perhaps he would be inclined to invest in some Jabberjays so he could always have the melody on hand. Though he'd have to tell Johanna's pack to keep their paws off his birds. He shuddered, thinking of those swans last season. Last time he tried raising fowl. 

He blinks and focuses back on Johanna and Finnick. The other two demons are sprawled on the ground and Johanna is whipping her top off in a victory strip. The shirt lands on him and he wrinkles his nose, plucking it off his head. No use in trying to get her to put it back on. Besides, Finnick's hooping and hollering doesn't help.  _How did I even manage to wind up with those two_ the thought crosses his mind. But he knows he would never trade them for the world. They were there for him during his darkest moments.  _  
_

He takes a deep breath through his nose and a scent hits him. Through all the heavy perfumes and scent of alcohol he can smell that sweet scent of pine needles and snow. He leaps up, teetering as the world spins as he tries to pinpoint her location. His heart races. His Katniss is out here lurking around somewhere. While exciting, it terrifies him. She's just placed herself in a dangerous position. He jumps from his perch and into a crouch before he pushes his way to Finnick and Johanna. He grabs Finnick's collar, spinning them around. Johanna leans over and Peeta steadily ignores her breasts hanging in his face. "What's got you all in a tizzy?" Johanna smirks. 

"Probably getting a stiffy thinking about what's her face - Kattits, right?" Finnick slurs. 

"It's Katniss." Peeta grits out. "And she's out here." He tilts his head up and sniffs again. The sooty smell of a male mingles with her scent. "And her male companion."

"Gale?" Suddenly Johanna is alert, claws digging into Finnick's head as he yelps. "What the fuck are they doing out here! He's gonna get a spanking for this!"

Deciding not to indulge in that mental image, Peeta grabs Finnick's shoulders. "We've got to find them and get them back to where they're supposed to be. Before someone gets hurt." 

And he isn't talking about Gale or Katniss. 

\-----------

Okay, so maybe this wasn't the smartest plan, I thought as the sea of crushing bodies smothers us. The scents of alcohol, sweat, and sex surround us and effectively mask our scent. The creatures are too involved in taking shots, hitting each other, or doing other /activities/ to notice Gale and I weaving through the crowd, our fingers tightly locked so we don't get separated. "We should go back." Gale stoops close enough to scream in my ear over the roar of noise. As much as I would love to, I don't even know where back is. We start to push through the crowd again, taking a sharp left away from the buildings. Surely the crowd will taper out at some point. 

Someone steps on my foot and a drink spills on Gale. We both barely manage to dodge someone puking on a balcony above us. I feel guilty, knowing that I've drug Gale into something that could become very dangerous very fast. I'll have to apologize later. I stumble over an unconscious body and crash into a very solid body. I blink, looking up into slitted green eyes. 

"Hey there," I recognize the male as Cato. I look behind for Gale, but he's been swallowed up by the crowd. I back up, going no where fast as he follows. "Come back here." His eyes are narrowed and I'm afraid he's going to recognize me despite my disguise. He grabs my wrist and instinctively I twist it to release myself. Cato senses my move and clamps down harder, his supernatural strength kicking in. He's moving forward and pushing me backwards until we step into the mouth of an alley, the noise dying down as he forces me against a brick wall. "Where have I seen you before?" He's staring down into my face and I tuck my chin further into the bright scarf. I shake my head, eyes darting around. Where's Gale when you need him? Cato is reaching for my scarf when screams distract him. The crowd is breaking up and I can hear the snapping and snarling of a wolf. Cato drags me further down the alleyway. I lurch forward and my attempt to catch him off guard works. I pull my wrist away and run towards the mouth of the alley, hoping to lose myself in the crowd again. 

I grunt as Cato slams me chest first into the wall. A forked tongue slides along my bare cheek. "I thought I recognized those eyes." He whispers. "District Twelve." He chuckles. "Naughty little thing, sneaking out into the heart of the Capitol. When you become mine, I'll have to punish you thoroughly for your bad behavior." I shudder as that forked tongue continues to swirl along my face and then my ear. His breath is hot as he opens his mouth and I see a flash of fangs dripping with venom. I know that one bite from a serpent shifter can paralyze a grown man for days. 

What could it do to me?

A strangled yell escapes both of us as a blurred figure slams into Cato. I scramble away, stopping to look back at two figures engaged in a heated fight. The tang of blood fills the air. When a hand grabs me, I slam my fist into the attached body. "Fuck!" I see the incubus from the night before holding his face as blood drips through is fingers. The wolf is standing behind him, her fist locked in Gale's shirt. Gale looks rightfully embarrassed, making sure to keep his eyes averted from the female's breasts. The incubus grabs my arm and starts to pull me away. "Let go of me! Let go of him!" I yell, struggling. 

"Finnick, let her go." 

The blurred figure that came to my rescue is the vampire. Peeta, my mind supplies. A dark red spot is blossoming on his face as a ragged bite wound seals itself up slowly. He wipes the blood from his mouth, flicking it back towards the retreating figure of Cato, who's constantly spitting something on the ground. I guess vampire blood doesn't taste as good as human. Finnick lets me go as Peeta grabs my upper arm. When I open my mouth to protest, he shoots me a look. 

The walk back to our tower is painfully short. At least Johanna has put on her shirt but she keeps telling Gale that he's in a heap of trouble. Unable to help myself, I smartly say, "You don't own him." 

If looks could kill I would be dead a thousand times over. "Yet." Johanna growls possessively. Peeta surprises me when he gives a growl of his own. 

"Not right now. Save it for later." He stops me while Finnick, Johanna, and Gale go ahead. He grabs both my upper arms and shakes me. "Do you know what could have happened to you if I hadn't found you?"

My mind is spinning from the rough shake and I take a moment to reply. "Can't be any worse then what will happen to me in that arena." He recoils, hands retracting. 

"You're more stubborn than your bio states." He mutters. 

I give a grin, feeling a little more brave now that it's just the two of us. "Mr. Mellark, there are many things that my bio cannot possibly begin to cover about me. I may have willingly taken my sister's place, but I will never willingly submit to the likes of you." I step up to him, toe to toe. 

I gasp as he spins me and my back is flush along the wall. Hands on either side of my head, caging me. A quick assessment reveals that he's keeping arms length away from me. Enough room for me to slip out and escape. But I hold my own. "Miss Everdeen," Peeta leans close to me so that our noses are touching. "I think you underestimate my desire for you." The words are laced with heat and my whole body flushes. "I will stop at nothing,  _nothing_ , to have you. Even if it means I have to drag you to District Two kicking and screaming. But I don't think that will happen, right Katniss?" An ice cold hand cups my cheek and slides into my hair, hardly messing the braid tossed over my shoulder. "Because you'll come willingly." 

His head tilts and his lips ghost over mine. My hands fly up to fist in his shirt but instead of pushing him away, I simply hold him. My eyes close and I allow him to deepen the kiss. I can tell there is some restraint and it surprises me. I figured that, like Cato, Peeta would simply take what he thought was his. He's the first one to break the kiss, a pained sound leaving his throat. I refuse to lower myself and make the same sound, stuffing it deep down in my chest until it burns. "You need to get back to your room. I'm sure your friend Gale is getting an earful from your escort and mentor."

\------------

Sure enough Gale is sitting on the sofa with Haymitch and Effie towering over him. Johanna and Finnick stand off to the side, both of them looking pissed. Johanna probably because of Gale and Finnick for getting his buzz ruined. When I show up with Peeta guiding me with a hand on my back, Haymitch and Effie whip around. Effie's wings are fluttering so fast I wonder if they'll simply break off. Haymitch's eyes are wild and his claws are flexed out. Gale seems relieved that the attention is directed off of him. "If there was some way I could possibly kill you without killing you, you two would be dead three times over by now!" Haymitch seethes, getting up in my face so his rank alcohol breath chokes me. "What were you thinking? I knew you humans were stupid but this is a new fucking low!"

Effie comes over and pulls me out of Peeta's grasp, checking over me for any scratches or injuries. "You're an utter embarrassment!" For some reason, the disappointment in her voice hurts more than Haymitch's insults. "This is going to be all over the news and Katniss did you even think about the repercussions?" 

Peeta, looking somewhat satisfied, steps up. "Don't worry about this Miss Trinket. No one saw who they were and the one who did won't be saying anything about the entire ordeal." Not unless Cato wanted to admit that he got his ass beat by Peeta. "Besides, many of the partygoers were rather drunk and memories will be impaired." Effie sighs but nods in agreement. She looks back at Gale and I. 

"Both of you, to your rooms and get a shower. You absolutely reek. I'll expect you both up early tomorrow for our big big big day! And if you two happen to be tired, then it's your own faults." Haymitch grabs Gale and pushes him towards the hallway as Effie ushers me the same way. I turn back to see Haymitch and Effie thanking the three for bringing us back safely. Before we part to our rooms, I look at Gale. I expect him to be angry with me as well, but he simply gives me a smirk. I return it and disappear into my room. After a shower I crawl back into my bed, utterly worn from the night's events. I fall asleep to the image of intense blue eyes and cold lips hot against my own. 

 


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaha
> 
> who went to see Mockingjay: Part II: /raises hand  
> who almost cried in the sewer scene: /raises hand
> 
> i was like, wow, i am hunger games inspired now so let's put it to use
> 
> thanks to all you sweet readers who continue to stick around! hope i didn't disappoint!

Where is it?

I’m on the verge of panicking as I tear up my room. Clothes are strewn everywhere, the bed turned over, the cabinets open and bare. My fingers tremble as I go through another pile. “Katniss?” Gale’s voice distracts me for a moment and I whip around, face red and eyes glassy with tears. I must look a mess with my once carefully coiffed hair thoroughly mussed. Gale stares at me, wide eyed and worried. “What’s wrong?” he’s immediately by my side and I fling a dress across the room.

“My dad’s jacket is missing.” My voice is quiet despite the inner chaos inside of me. My father’s jacket is the only lifeline I have left to my family. To my life I left behind.

If something happened to it...

Surely it's just misplaced.

“We’ll find it.” Gale promises and I nod, grateful for his support. My fingers tremble as I start going through the clothes again. We only get so far before my door opens, Effie’s horrified screech causing us both stop in our search. She marches up and grabs my arm to haul me up, positively enraged by my disheveled appearance. I jerk out of her arms, a glare on my face as I sit back down in my makeshift stack and start sorting through the clothes. Part of me knows it’s hopeless. I’ve gone through this pile three times already but still no luck. I cling to what little hope that perhaps it’s simply been washed and stored away in unknown parts of my room. I can faintly hear Gale talking with Effie, trying to explain the situation and her responding “of all things! It's just an article of clothing!”.

“It’s not just an article of clothing!” I snap as I stand, fingers clenching into a fist. “It’s my father’s jacket, the only thing I have left of my home and it’s gone! And until I find it, I’m not going anywhere!” I march over to the closet and begin flinging what little clothes are left hanging over my shoulder.

“What the hell is going on here?” Haymitch joins the little party and I choke down the urge to scream at all of them. I press the heels of my palms into my hands, trying to stifle the tears over the realization that my father’s jacket is gone.

“Oh, I know where that is.”

My world suddenly stops spinning and I stumble over to Haymitch, grabbing his shirt. “Where is it?” I hiss. There's a glint in his eyes, as if he’s secretly pleased by all of this.

“I gave it to Peeta Mellark.”

The next moment Gale is pulling me back and Haymitch is clutching his face, dark blood dripping from his nose. “Get it back! NOW!” I scream, struggling against Gale. Haymitch manages to plug his nose, baring his teeth at me. As if that would stop me. Effie stands in between us, not so much concerned for Haymitch’s safety but to keep me from doing any damage to myself.

“Katniss! Stop all this nonsense!” She scolds and I quiet, chest hurting and face stinging from the angry tears that roll down my face. “Your jacket was given to Mr. Mellark as insurance on your part.” My eyes narrow. “You’re not nearly as cooperative as we would like, and Mr. Mellark is very interested in acquiring you. He’s already paid a handsome down payment for you and all he asked was for a little extra assurance that you would eventually be willing. Haymitch and I agreed that your jacket would be the best token. It’s not unheard of.” She tsks, as if this should already be known.

“Monsters.” I spit at her. “All of you.” I think of Peeta’s words, his chilling promise that I would go with him willingly. I wrench out of Gale’s arms utterly disgusted, tuning and stomping into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

———-

She looks like a living flame as she moves, hardly pausing to let the cameras snap her picture. Her expression is guarded despite the best efforts of Effie to make her smile. Peeta notices this as he watches her make her way down the line with the other tributes who are being photographed obsessively while Caesar highlights each one as they come by. Finnick joins him a moment later, taking a deep swig of his champagne. “One more night and they’ll be ours.” he grins, nudging Peeta playfully as he watches Annie blush at Caesar’s words. She’s ushered away by her mentor and Finnick gives this little sigh.

“You’re whipped already.” Peeta remarks with a hint of a smile. Finnick merely gives him a shit eating grin.

“As if you aren’t?” He quirks an eyebrow, nodding to Katniss as she’s approached by Caesar. They can’t hear the words, but she remains unmoved by whatever the television personality is rattling on about. Effie looks furious despite her smile and she leans into Katniss’ shoulder, her mouth moving. Katniss’ eyes darken and she simply turns away, grabbing her red dress by the skirt and swishing past the two inside. She’s followed by Gale and Peeta feels something uncomfortable twist in his stomach at the gaze Gale sports. He was assured that the human was nothing more than a close friend of Katniss but his gentle touch begged to differ. Too late now to wonder if it would be dangerous to have him close. Johanna had already set her sights on him and the lycan never let go once she locked down on her prey. Besides, he thought, Johanna would keep him occupied and unable to think about Katniss. Not to mention, Katniss would eventually warm up to him (at least, that’s what he kept telling himself).

“You’re a terrible conversationalist.” Finnick knocks him in the shoulder, bringing Peeta out of his little daydream. He blushes, just a tinge of pink coming to his cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes. Finnick shakes his head.

“I don’t know if it’ll be a good or bad thing when you bring her home. We may never see you then!” Finnick wraps his arm around Peeta’s shoulder dramatically. “So, did you get her a gift? I heard you officially signed with Haymitch. Big surprise there.”

Peeta rummages around in his pocket and pulls out the gold mockingjay pin he had found stowed away in Katniss’ jacket. It’s attached to a thin gold chain, making the pin look delicate despite the faded edges. Finnick gives a nod of approval. “I got a bracelet.” He holds up a shimmering silver band, full of dangling charms of seashells and colored pearls. “Had it specially commissioned in District Four. They were more than happy to make a custom piece.”

“You two look like a couple of girls.” Johanna laughs as she slides up beside them.  

"Oh yeah? Well what did you get your boy?" Finnick raises a brow. Johanna snorts. 

"I don't think he's the type to be won over with petty gifts." 

Both Peeta and Finnick look at their trinkets before hastily stuffing them in their coat pockets. The dinner bell is ringing and the trio enter the dining room, immediately zeroing in on their desired targets. Peeta hesitates as Effie pulls Gale and Katniss aside, her words appearing heated. He glances over, where Finnick has managed to garner Annie's attention and is presenting the bracelet. His hopeful eyes are something new to Peeta. Finnick is so accustomed to charming the pants off of every creature he meets, it's almost amusing to watch him stumble and bumble through this unorthodox courtship. Annie stares at him for a long time, eyes barely looking at the bracelet. She shakes her head, pushing it back towards him before her mentor gently guides her away. Finnick looks crushed and Peeta finds himself stepping towards his incubus friend. 

"Hold on there," Johanna grabs Peeta by the collar. "You gotta let him do this by himself. He'll never learn if he always gets things handed to him." Peeta licks his lips, watching as Finnick carefully places the bracelet back in his pocket before going to sit down across from Annie and her mentor. He's got a fire in his eye and Peeta mentally wishes him the best. When he gets his gaze back on Katniss, a tremor of alarm goes through him. Her eyes are red rimmed but there are no tears to smudge her makeup. Her eyes lock onto his and suddenly she's moving towards him. His throat constricts and he finds his hand trembling in the pocket where the necklace is hot against his skin. Finally she stops before him, her gaze sizing him up as if she's getting ready to put an arrow between his eyes. 

"You're disgusting. A monster." 

Peeta recoils, the necklace falling from his fingers. He's never felt such rejection. Not since...

His mind refuses to go there and he blinks, Effie clouding his vision, gripping the necklace and apologizing profusely for Katniss' behavior. He doesn't hear her. 

All he can hear is Katniss' words over and over again. 

_You're disgusting. A monster._

\-------------

Dinner makes me want to vomit. 

I push my food around on my plate, forced to stare at Peeta Mellark. He simply glances from his glass to me, as if waiting for the right moment to speak. This vampire before me is different from the night before. The vampire from last night is easier to hate, with his confident stare and dangerous aura. This vampire...he's more human than I care to admit. Especially after the look of anguish that crossed his face after I spat those words at him. But I won't apologize for them. No matter how much Effie pleads, begs, and threatens. 

Peeta opens and closes his mouth several times, as if he wants to say something to me. Instead his lips tighten into a line and he brings his glass to his lips. I shudder at the sight of the thick liquid. I turn my gaze, focusing on Gale, who seems to be mildly engaging with Johanna. I catch snippets of their conversations. Johanna is saying something about the game that lives in the lands she roams. Gale is trying not to act interested but I know he is. We're used to small fowl, an occasional wild dog or hog. She's talking about deer and goats, rock climbing sheep fat with wool and meat. His hands twitch, as if he's mentally readying his strike. He talks about how that game could feed his family for months. Johanna gives him a sympathetic look, promises to let him hunt as much as he desires. I halfheartedly want to ask Peeta that question. Would I be allowed to hunt? Or would I be watching from the windows. For a moment I envy Gale. I envy Johanna. What I wouldn't give for that freedom. 

My eyes dart back to Peeta. 

Would he be that price?

\------------

Dinner finally wraps up and I am mercifully spared from any more interaction. Haymitch stays with Gale while Effie escorts me home, prattling on about how appalled she is by my behavior. I effectively tune her out, especially when Annie and her escort, Mags, join us on the path. Annie and I linger behind, thankful when the escorts pay no attention (or at least pretend). "I know how you feel." Annie murmurs. "He tried to buy me over with a gift, but it's not like I wanted this." I give a tight nod, not trusting my voice. "I think it's amazing, what you did, to save your sister. But I'm glad, because you give me strength to not cower, to not submit. I know it doesn't seem like it. I'm not as outspoken as you." 

A weak chuckle escapes my lips. "He came to me, in a dream." Annie gives a soft laugh. "It's easier to be brave in dreams though." 

I reach over, grabbing her hand. "It's better than nothing. After tomorrow, we may be physically owned by these...creatures, but that is all they will have." 

Annie is quiet for a moment before smiling. 

"Thank you, for giving me the strength I needed." 

I smile, but I feel like an impostor inside.

I'm not strong.

I'm not inspiring. 

But if I give Annie hope, then perhaps I can give myself hope as well. 

\------------

Upon entering my room, the chaos is back in orderly fashion. A plain wrapped package sits on my bed. I open it and a gasp leaves me. It's my father's jacket, still worn and familiar with its musky scent. I hold it close, refusing to cry. There is a neatly folded note in the collar. 

_Forgive me._

_I know what it is like to have something precious taken from me._  

The script is hastily scrawled and a breeze catches my attention. I walk over, staring out at the expanse below. It's a long drop down, but I suppose a vampire could survive it. 

I pull my father's jacket on and I snuggle up in bed, sleep finally claiming me as I lay there with the note clutched in my hand. 

Tomorrow will come too soon. 


End file.
